


Bus Stop Romance

by ich_bin_ein_stern



Series: Prompts w/Tony Stark [13]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: M/M, Teen!T'Challa, Teen!Tony, some blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-12-01
Packaged: 2018-09-03 15:14:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8718721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ich_bin_ein_stern/pseuds/ich_bin_ein_stern
Summary: Prompt: Ironpanther: “Oh my god ohmyogd ohmy god i did not mean to punch you in the nose. there’s blood… everywhere…i think… i’m going to faint” AU Avac/HS AU? With Tony accidentally punching T'challa with his prosthetic arm, and then fainting at the sight of the blood. Then T'challa frantically trying to wake up this (cute) boy he just met, Tony being super embarrassed when he wakes up, and then T'challa taking Tony to get ice cream or something equally cute. ;3





	

Tony was late. Oh god, he was late. And Rhodey was going to be _pissed_. And Tony didn’t have a good excuse aside from oversleeping - **again**.

“Shit!” Tony curses as he weaves in and out of people. “Please, please don’t let me miss the bus.”

And why was he taking the bus? 

Because he misplaced his car keys during his late night study session with Bruce and couldn’t find them and _oh god, why did he set an alarm?_

Tony stops to catch his breath, organized duffle bag hanging haphazardly on his arm from sliding off, and notices a coffee shop and his mouth waters. He honestly debates, for like five seconds, on whether he should risk getting coffee or not.

“This isn’t right,” Tony mourns out loud while staring longingly at the coffee shop before adjusting the strap to his bag and making a dash for the bus stop.

He skids to a stop, no one but an unknown boy and Ms. Tats (the friendly cat lady) sitting (or in the boy’s case, standing) there. Glancing at his watch, Tony sags down onto the bench next to Ms. Tats and just a few feet from the unknown boy with his bag in his lap. Ms. Tats spares him a friendly smile while the boy doesn’t look up from his book.

“Two minutes and twelve seconds to spare,” Tony mumbles.

“Where are you off to today, Tony, dear?” Ms. Tats asks.

“Oh, Rhodey is supposed to be presenting something for his class and I promised to be there and I overslept and lost my car keys and I couldn’t get coffee and I just hope I make it there in time,” Tony rants, arms waving around as he talks.

He hears a chuckle from his left and turns to question the boy about what’s so funny, but sees the boy is still looking at his novel and so he chalks it up to the boy having read something funny.

Tony moves to adjust his bag, but the zipper unzips somewhat and several little things (pens, pencils, sticky notes, calculator, paper clips, etc) fall out and scatter on the sidewalk.

“Oh shit,” Tony groans. He bends down to start picking when a voice calls out.

“This belongs to you - ugh!” and the voice cuts abruptly.

The voice cuts off because of Tony.

The voice cuts off because Tony accidently hit whoever was talking…

With his prosthetic arm.

Because Tony wasn’t paying attention to who was next to him and swung his clenched fist around to whoever was close (He has paper clips in his hand!) and was going to open and - well, that didn’t work out.

Tony turns around to see the boy on the ground and he immediately drops what’s in his hand to rush forward to the boy kneeling on the ground.

“Tony, what happened?” Tony hears Ms. Tats gasp.

_You didn’t just see me punch someone?!_ , Tony wants to snap, but doesn’t.

He turns his attention back to the boy and grabs his hands to uncover his face.

“I’m sorry,” Tony rushes out. “I, god, I didn’t mean too. I didn’t mean to hit you!”

“You,” the boy starts, “pack quite a punch. I was not prepared.”

Tony tugs at the hands again. “I’m sorry. Let me see. D-do I need to take you to a hospital?” Rhodey would understand, right?

“I,” the boy pauses, “will be alright.”

“Okay, but can you let me see?”

Tony hears the boy sigh and he finally, finally, lowers his hands. 

Tony blinks.

He suddenly feels lightheaded.

“Is that,” Tony breathes in deeply, “is that b-blood?”

The boy is bleeding from his nose, not an awful lot, but rather a steady small stream. That’s when Tony realizes the slowly growing puddle of blood on the ground in front of the boy.

And he sways a little as a drop of blood falls from the boys chin. 

“Y-your bleedi - ” and Tony doesn’t finish.

Everything goes black.

———-

T’Challa, for all his elegance and practiced ease, tries very hard not to freak out. The Pretty Boy, Tony (if he recalls correctly), faints and T’Challa had to use his arms to catch him or otherwise he’d ruin Tony’s jean jacket with blood stains.

“Did he faint?” Ms. Tats asks. 

T’Challa resists the urge to roll his eyes at the obviousness of the situation. 

“Here,” she says. “For your face.”

T’Challa grabs the offered handkerchief and holds it over his nose.

“The poor dear will miss his bus,” she nods towards the bus just a couple of yards away. “I’m sure his friend will understand. I’ll watch him while you go clean up. There’s a bathroom in that building behind you.”

And T’Challa makes quick work of that. He wants to be there when Pretty Boy wakes up. 

When he gets back to the bus stop, Ms. Tats is standing there as the bus (or another?) is waiting for her to enter.

“Take good care of him!” she calls and gets on. T’Challa notices that all of Pretty Boy’s (Tony!) belongings are already picked up.

Sighing, T’Challa zips up the bag and rests it at near Tony’s head and proceeds to try and wake him up.

“Please wake up,” T’Challa starts.

No movement.

T’Challa shakes Tony’s shoulder. “You need to wake up.”

No response.

He tries a little harder. “We both cannot afford to be here much longer!”

His hand drifts from Tony’s shoulder to his face. There’s a scar, faint, just under Tony’s right eye that he traces. Aside from the facial hair and scar, his face is blemish free.

“Please wake up,” T’Challa says. “I refuse to leave you here, but we both have places we need to be! And we can’t miss the next bus!”

T’Challa really, really needs Tony to wake up.

Just as he is debating on what to do next, he hears a gasp followed by a groan. Tony’s face pinches briefly before relaxing and T’Challa watches as his eyes flutter open. Up close, they are the most intense shade of blue T’Challa has ever seen.

Tony’s eyes focus on him and T’Challa thanks his quick reflexes for being useful now so that he could dodge Tony’s head when said boy shoots up.

“What happened?” Tony asks.

“You - ”

“Did I faint? I fainted, right? This is so not cool!” Tony groans and lays back down on the bench.

“Go,” he says dramatically. “Leave me here to drown in self-pity.”

T’Challa smiles a little.

“If you stay here, you’ll be even more late to wherever you need to be.”

Tony sighs and sits back up. “I already missed the bus. Might as well call Rhodey, try to explain so I don’t embarrass myself.”

T’Challa politely backs off so Tony can have a somewhat private conversation.

“ - okay, see you later,” and Tony ends the call. “Thank god, he’s going last.”

He turns to T’Challa.

“Thanks for not being angry - assuming that you aren’t!” Tony says quickly. 

T’Challa chuckles at the hasty comment. He doesn’t even feel the pain anymore and it will heal. He’s more interested in how someone so…tiny (perhaps, not the best word) could pack such a punch.

“I am alright. I am, however, shocked by the amount of strength the blow dealt,” and Tony blushes a little. 

“I, uh, hit you with my prosthetic,” Tony mumbles as he pulls the sleeve of his jean jacket up a little bit to show off his right hand better and wiggles his fingers. 

Before he can stop himself, T’Challa reaches out and stroke along the pointer finger.

“Beautiful,” he mumbles.

Because it really is.

“Thanks. I designed it and had it made. Need to upgrade it eventually, but I’m a little attached.”

T’Challa grins just  little and clears his throat. “May I ask how you lost your arm?”

Tony blinks and then grins. “You’re the first person to ask straight forward. I like that.” T’Challa tries to not blush.

“Anyways, last year I transferred to Avengers Academy with my best friend, Rhodey, and I was driving us to the school when this idiot came swerving out of nowhere and slammed into my side, the car flipped, a shitton of glass everywhere, and, well, next thing I know, I wake up in a hospital with only one arm.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” T’Challa says. He hasn’t let go of Tony’s hand.

“It’s okay. I mean, I’m over it now. Rhodey gave the driver an ear full, was gonna’ beat him up if it weren’t for his broken arm.”

“I’m on my way to Avengers Academy as well,” T’Challa says. “I near to pick up a document for my father.”

Tony grins. “Just stick with me. I can show you around.”

“And then, perhaps, we can go…do something after?” T’Challa says smoothly. “I hear there’s a fantastic ice cream place near campus.”

“Only if you promise to buy me a sundae?”

T’Challa smiles. “It would be my pleasure.”

~The End~

**Author's Note:**

> This work can be originally found on my tumblr - [click here](http://i-ship-tonystark-with-happiness.tumblr.com/post/147622461542/ironpanther-oh-my-god-ohmyogd-ohmy-god-i-did-not)
> 
> Thank you for reading! ^_^


End file.
